


RABUHO (Love Hotel) - Part One: Disco Pharaohs from Outer Space

by sevenswells



Series: Rabuho [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Blue Balls, Cake, Coitus Interruptus, Food Porn, Love Hotels, M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Roleplay, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenswells/pseuds/sevenswells
Summary: Bokuto would like more intimacy for him and Akaashi, and so for Akaashi's birthday, he decides to find them some at a love hotel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote this fic in French for a fanzine, and I've decided to translate it. It's all already written, I just need to crack open my Webster to update it regularly. Unfortunately, I don't have a beta for this, so please bear with my grammar mistakes -- you can point them out to me if you have the patience.
> 
> Last part will be updated on December 5th, which as you know is Akaashi's birthday. In the mean time, do tell me what you thought of this first chapter if you liked it, and if you have words of encouragement, they help!

Akaashi's birthday was almost upon them and Bokuto had zero ideas for a present.

What do you get the man who has everything?

Not only did Akaashi have _everything_ (he was handsome, smart, skilled at volleyball and, last but not least, he had Bokuto who, truth be told, was totally awesome), but his tastes were… peculiar, and making him happy was no small feat.

For example, he liked to wear tacky t-shirts with ridiculous prints and catchphrases on them, but woe betide Bokuto if he ever decided to buy him one! Akaashi had a pretty warped sense of humor and getting it right wasn't easy. Not to mention the shape and the cut and the colours of the t-shirt which had to fit his criteria exactly -- lest it be rejected and banished forever.

An invitation to a fancy restaurant, then? Bokuto had put aside a small fortune in pocket money and certainly had the means to. However, Akaashi's foodie tastes leaned towards the gourmet type. Trying out a new restaurant at random would be too risky.

So what other option?

A perfume? Bokuto loved Akaashi's natural scent too much to -- criminally -- contribute in masking it.

Some tech gadget then? Akaashi lived in the 1980s when it came to technology and didn't like to clutter himself with stuff (however much his bedroom was the very definition of "clutter", but that was only one of many Akaashian paradoxes which Bokuto would have listed out in a notebook, had he the patience)(and a notebook)

"Kuroooooo, I don't know what to dooooo help meeee," he whined during their  third order of meat at the Korean barbecue.  
  
Through his gloom, Bokuto noticed with a small measure of satisfaction that his best friend was lagging behind in their grilled meat race. Kuroo was slouching on his seat, a beer in hand, his other hand propped against his belly as though he were pregnant. Good thing it would leave more to eat for Bokuto: feeling down turned him ravenous.  
  
"Dunno," Kuroo said after a loud belch, the very picture of elegance and class. "Something sexy…?"  
  
"We're already fucking, that's not really a novelty. Besides, I don't _do_ sexy, I just _am_. Have you seen these guns? And my abs?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I've seen 'em, that's all I can see about you actually, clearly not your big brains."  
  
"Asshole."  
  
"Thanks. Is there anything you haven't tried out yet? To 'spice things up' a little?"  
  
"Ugh, you talk like a women's magazine, it's so lame."  
  
"Yeah well maybe you should take your inspiration from such reference works and WILL YOU FREAKING STOP STEALING MY MEAT, GODDAMMIT!"  
  
"Well duh, I thought you were done…"  
  
"Am I not allowed to take a little break, you pig? Keep robbing me like this and you can forget about me helping you at all!"  
  
"I'll give you my share of tongue if you give me an idea."  
  
An unholy spark of glee lit up Kuroo's eyes. Bokuto didn't like this at all.  
  
"Do you mean…"  
  
"Oh, no."  
  
"…that the _cat's_ …"  
  
"No, no, no…"  
  
"…got your…"  
  
At the peak of despair, Bokuto quickly cut in:  
  
"…tongue, that is so funny, cat's got my tongue, Nekoma's mascot is a cat and you're the captain of Nekoma and you got my tongue, haha, well played, el-oh-el. Now can we please go back to my problem, please?" he cried.  
  
"I don't like tongue," Kuroo shrugged.  
  
"That's the best part, you Philistine! Hey hey, speaking of, have I ever told that Akaashi does _things_ with his tongue that…"  
  
It was Kuroo's turn to interrupt him abruptly:  
  
"Woah, woah, one, I never want to know, and two, yeah, yeah, you two have an amazing sex life, cheers to this guy who's desperately trying to get some and simply can't, not for want of trying…"  
  
"Tsukki still not putting out, huh?"  
  
"No comment. There must be something that you two are missing, right? You, him, both of you? Don't tell me you both are perpetually, completely satisfied? Don't lie."  
  
Bokuto thought about it for a second.  
  
"Well… I don't know if it means anything, but…"  
  
"I'm all ears."  
  
"Akaashi… still uses honorifics and polite speech…"  
  
Kuroo choked on his beer.  
  
"What, you mean even in the sack?" he said, wiping off the dribble with the back of his sleeve like a slob.  
  
Turned beet red, Bokuto nodded; mercilessly, Kuroo giggled. Then he put on Akaashi's default blasé expression, at odds with the movements of his pelvis,  that he started rolling obscenely on his seat, panting:  
  
"Oh, oh, Bokuto-san, take me, take me now, after filling in and signing this application in three copies…"  
  
"Stop exaggerating, Akaashi's not like that," Bokuto protested.  
  
"He's a weirdo and you know it."  
  
"Yeah well I am one too!"  
  
"Clearly."  
  
"And you are too!"  
  
"True."  
  
"Where were we going with this?"  
  
"Dunno."  
  
"Anyway… Akaashi can't relax, he has to hold back a lot, and I'm holding back too, especially with the noise… when we do it, it's either at my house or his and when there are people around… we have developed special techniques to keep as quiet as possible but, yeah, it's not ideal. And even when there's no one around we're still stressed out and we tend to keep it short, just in case our parents come home earlier than expected…"  
  
"So, to sum it up, correct me if I'm wrong…" Kuroo started while he largely helped himself in Bokuto's share of meat. He made a point of chewing with his mouth open, obviously delighted when each mastication was answered with a wince from Bokuto. "You want intimacy, make all the noise you like, while being able to take your time, and you'd also like Akaashi to let go a little."  
  
"Basically, yes. Say, are you taking all my meat as a payback or is it as payment because you actually have a suggestion for me…?" Bokuto fretted.  
  
Kuroo pointed his chopsticks at him with a huge grin.  
  
" _Pin-pooon_ , my guy," he answered without replying.

  


*****  
  
The place was chic without being too posh, the staff polite and helpful without being cold, the lighting strategically oriented, turning the atmosphere soft and intimate : everything to make the customer at ease.  
  
With his mouth full, Akaashi made a small noise at the back of his throat while shivering in pleasure.  
  
"Would you like to taste mine, Bokuto-san?" he asked, eyes half-lidded, dazed.  
  
But the most important thing, obviously, was that the pastries of this tea parlour were to die for.  
  
Perhaps Bokuto could be offended by the shamelessness Akaashi usually displayed more often in the presence of (delicious) cakes than when they were doing the do, but the mere way he was licking his spoon was enough to make him forgiven.  
  
His tongue lingered, unabashedly chasing the smallest trace of cream with long strokes, until the spoon disappeared completely in his mouth.    
  
Suddenly dying of thirst, Bokuto emptied his cup of cold tea, before he asked:  
  
"What's your cake called, Akaashi?"  
  
"Mmmh… 'Venus'"  
  
"Huh, yeah, it figures."  
  
"Hmm…?"  
  
"Nothing. What's in it?"  
  
"Rose-flavoured mascarpone cream on a shortcrust pastry, apple and quince jam and very thin slices of raw apple arranged in a bouquet on top of it. I read that the apple was of the 'Chiyuki' variety, which I've never tasted before. It has a floral, honeyed taste which you can appreciate beyond the rose fragrance, contained in the cream and that the quince develops when it's cooked. This cake is quite deserving of its name: there is something frankly alluring, not to say downright erotic about it, but at the same time very subtle and balanced. The layers themselves are a work of art, as ever with this particular chef. And for a pastry so floral and fruity, I must say that the tea went particularly well with it."  
  
"Which tea?" asked Bokuto, who only wanted Akaashi to keep talking.  
  
Usually discreet and not very talkative, his boyfriend only rambled these kinds of lyrical flights when it came to food -- not that Bokuto regretted it. He could listen to Akaashi talk like that for the rest of his life.  
  
"A mix of rose petals, dried raspberry and litchi fragrance: the chef's signature blend. A flavour profile widely imitated but rarely matched. Only its original creator can measure it out this beautifully. What about you, Bokuto-san? Do you like what you chose?"  
  
"It's very good, but I can leave you my share if you want it. Plus, it's your birthday today, so."  
  
On one hand, Bokuto's stomach was too knotted with anticipation to appreciate it; on the other, he wanted the arousing show of the birthday boy eating his cakes to keep going.  
Said birthday boy was quick to say yes. He demolished the " _2000-feuilles_ " with his spoon methodically, and welcomed the first mouthful with a barely contained moan.  
Bokuto tried his absolute best not to get hard. He thought about repeatedly blocked spikes, which worked a little too well and attracted Akaashi's attention.  
  
"Bokuto-san, would you like to share the cause of this sudden bout of depression? Should I have refused your slice of cake…?"  
  
Bokuto quickly pulled himself back together.  
  
"No, no, not at all, it's nothing! How is it, then? The cake? Do you like it?"  
  
Akaashi saw through the attempt at diversion, but for once let it pass.  
  
"Infinitely crunchy, and the taste of hazelnut in the praline is authentic, whole, intense. It's dense and satisfying, without being heavy. I think I've found the love of my life."  
  
"Me too," Bokuto murmured without thinking.  
  
Akaashi heard him and immediately turned scarlet, which made Bokuto blush in turn. They remained like this during a long moment, letting their embarrassment stretch out, until Akaashi finally decided to finish his cake, in silence.  
  
*****  
  
"Thank you for the present, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said outside the tea parlour.  
  
"You're welcome, Akaashi, but that wasn't the real present! We already went to this tea parlour last year. As a couple, we shouldn't get stuck in a routine!"  
  
"You're talking like a women's magazine."  
  
"It's because of Kuroo, he made me study up. I want to take you somewhere, but it's a surprise, so no spoilers! Let me tie your scarf around your eyes…"  
  
"Wait, Bokuto-san. Is it far from here? Do we have to take public transportation? Isn't there a risk of provoking concern in people around us, or wouldn't I simply end up looking ridiculous in public?"  
  
"Akaashiiiii, trust me!"  
  
"Something tells me that I'll come to regret it," said Akaashi as he blindfolded himself nevertheless.  
  
"I promise you, you won't, Akaashi! It'll be the best birthday ever, 'cos I'm the best boyfriend ever! You swear you don't see anything?"  
  
"I swear."  
  
"How many fingers do I have?"  
  
"I don't see them, Bokuto-san."  
  
"You pass the test, Akaashi!" said Bokuto, taking his hand and joyfully dragging him through the streets of Shibuya.  
  
*****  
  
The further they climbed up the Dōgenzaka hill, the seedier the buildings became, the dodgier the neighborhood, and only the most audacious (and desperate) couples remained.  
  
The problem was that the reason of their presence here, even more so that Bokuto was ostensibly leading a blindfolded Akaashi by the hand, left little room for doubt. One or two group of teenagers catcalled them from a distance.  
  
Hopefully Akaashi couldn't hear any more than he could see, or at least he was pretending not to hear anything. More than being subjected to ordinary homophobia, however, Bokuto was mainly afraid that Akaashi could guess where they were headed.  
  
They arrived at the address that Kuroo had graciously provided: the Sweet Angelo Hotel wasn't the shabbiest of them all, certainly, but it was not the most pristine either.  
   
The plastic cherubs frolicking on the facade showed a striking contrast of sun-bleached colours and blackish mould dripping down from their chubby cheeks, and looked more like ghost train puppets than celestial creatures.  
A few cracks ran between the painted clouds on the sky-blue wall, reminiscent of ominous lightning bolts.  
  
Nevertheless, Kuroo had assured Bokuto that the inside was perfectly hygienic and, even more appreciable, they refused no one.  
  
During the last few years, the Japanese government had adopted a stricter and more conservative position on vice, and many were the love hotels who wouldn't accept same-sex couples, especially men, in fear of police harassment.  
  
Thus, the range of options was drastically reduced for homosexuals -- and  this hotel even had to be the cream of the crop of what was left.  
  
Gathering his courage and gripping Akaashi's hand tighter, Bokuto passed the threshold with a resolute step.  
  
A large panel of television screens took up one entire wall in the tiny lobby. Most of them displayed a view of the inside of the rooms available, not unlike a restaurant menu, to help the client make his choice.  
  
Some of the rooms were plainly decorated, similar to those of a regular hotel, others had more exotic themes: pirate ship, prison, jungle, boxing arena…  
  
A few black screens indicated the rooms that were already taken.  
  
The functioning was simple: you pressed a button underneath the screen of the room of your choice, and in return you got a receipt specifying the room number and its floor.  
  
This hotel asked for part of the payment in advance, then billed any extra, like the use of sex toys, cosplays, food orders, as well as time prolongations, from one hour, to the whole night until morning.  
  
Bokuto was still trying to decide -- too many choices! Would Akaashi prefer undecorated, or more whimsical? -- when the object of his thoughts broke his silence:  
  
"May take the blindfold off, Bokuto-san?"  
  
"Er, um, no, Akaashi, just wait a s… oh, shit!"  
  
Bokuto was so distracted he'd pressed one of the buttons without looking. The screen had turned off immediately: impossible to know what he'd chosen. The receipt that the machine spat out was of no help either.  
  
He approached the opaque window at the front desk, and was stopped in his tracks by a shrill voice that emanated from it:  
  
"We ask for payment in advance, sir."  
  
"Um, well, yes, okay, it's just, I actually don't know which room I've chosen, so I was wondering if it would be possible…"  
  
"In advance, sir," the voice repeated, shriller still.  
  
"Bokuto-san, what's going on? Do you want me to intervene?"  
  
"No, Akaashi! I mean, give me just one minute!"  
  
He came back to the guardian deity of the place whom, in all evidence, had woken up on the wrong side of the bed from time immemorial, and hadn't gone back to sleep ever since.  
  
"Madam, good evening," he tried, all sweetness and light. "Listen, I would just like to…"  
  
"You pay now, and extras will be billed at check-out," said the voice, unyielding. "The whole night and accessories are extra. You can order rental costumes by calling Room Service. But the first hour has to be payed now, as an entry fee."  
  
"Yes, of course," he said, compliantly handing over bank notes, like raising a white flag, through the provided opening. "But I…"  
  
They disappeared before he could end his sentence, caught by a thick, wrinkly hand with sharp nails. It gave him back the difference instantly, along with a blank plastic card.  
  
"Here's your change and the room's key card, have a nice stay," the voice droned.  
  
Infuriated by this lack of consideration, Bokuto dropped a sarcastic "thanks", then turned heels and manhandled Akaashi to the elevator.  
  
"I think I may have guessed where we are, Bokuto-san," Akaashi attempted when the elevator's doors closed. "Keeping my eyes blindfolded does not really make sense anymore…"  
  
"No, you can't take it off before we arrive in front of the surprise," Bokuto shot back, bloody-minded and still reeling from his exchange with the lady at the front desk.  
  
Truth to be told, what Bokuto wanted was to delay the inevitable: the moment where Akaashi would be disappointed.  
  
This hotel wasn't good enough for him. Everything in it was old, tacky, cheap,  a real downer… How on Earth could Akaashi ever be contented by a birthday gift so mediocre? In what universe? "Best boyfriend ever" indeed, what a joke!  
  
As they passed through a corridor with walls of worn-out synthetic velvet, Bokuto, all at the same time, was regretting bringing Akaashi here, copiously cursing Kuroo, and panicking increasingly. But he also felt he was way too caught up in this infernal chain of events to go back now.  
It didn't matter, he would see this through. Akaashi would open his eyes, size up the disaster, then they would leave the hotel on their own separate ways and neither of them would speak of this tragic business ever again.  
  
Heart as heavy as his feet, Bokuto walked on his personal death row, telling himself on repeat that they should have limited themselves to the tea parlour, that he had gone too far, again, and he had ruined everything, again.  
  
By his side, Akaashi didn't seem to sense anything of his inner turmoil.  
  
When Bokuto opened the door and saw what was inside, any hope that the situation might somehow fix itself left him: instead, sheer ice seeped into his bones. This was the pits. They had reached rock bottom, and they were going to start digging.  
  
Best get it over with.  
  
He pronounced his own death sentence:  
  
"Now, Akaashi. You may look."  
  
As for Bokuto, he was incapable of looking anymore. He only saw Akaashi taking the blindfold off from the corner of his field of vision, then he nobly withstood the torture of the long, drawn-out silence that followed.  
  
He already knew what a truly angry Akaashi looked like. His face became a mask, even more impassive, to the point of turning terrifying.  
  
Once, during an innocent conversation with Kuroo and Tsukishima, Bokuto had let slip that, in his childhood pictures, Akaashi used to be adorably chubby, who would've thunk.  
  
It had taken half a billion excuses afterwards, written and oral, every day for two weeks, before Akaashi's cold anger passed, and his facial expression  regained mobility.  
  
Bokuto hadn't even thought he was saying something harmful at the time -- it wasn't worse than the time he'd blurted out in front of the team that Akaashi could come merely from having the tip of his fingers fellated.  
  
He wondered how many excuses, and how much time, he'd need to make up for this now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the cakes Akaashi ate, because it's very important to me:
> 
> The "2000-feuilles":  
>   
> The "Vénus":  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> They're from a French pastry chef whom I admire very much, Pierre Hermé; you can find those cakes in Paris, but also in Tokyo where he has a tea parlour in Shibuya.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Akaashi's patience is tested to its limits and the subtitle "Disco Pharaohs from Outer Space" is given its full meaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Akaashi, my love! I'm dead tired, I have no beta, sorry for mistakes or if it doesn't make sense because I'm French and trying my best, etc.
> 
> I just love Akaashi.

The first words out of Akaashi's mouth ended up being:  
  
"Ah. Now that is… _different_."  
  
"Different" didn't even begin to cover it.  
  
An entire phrase was rather needed here, something like, "drunken nightmare of a colour-blind cartoon squid inexplicably fond of disco AND Ancient Egypt at the same time".  
  
Because, indeed, on top of psychedelic colours, leopard prints everywhere, a mirror ball, disco lights, a round-shaped waterbed propped on a mechanical turntable in the middle of the room, there were also styrofoam pharaohs and Egyptian gods, and hieroglyphic-themed wallpapers, with no rhyme or reason discernible by a sane human mind.  
  
On one side, a large window made of opaque white glass was embedded in the wall separating the bathroom and the bedroom. It reminded Bokuto of the front desk and the series of misfortunes which had led him to this black (and green, and yellow, and pink, and violet) hole of absurdity, and made him feel worse. If that were even possible.  
  
"Akaashi… I'm sorry," he said on the verge of tears. "I didn't think it would suck so hard, but it was one of the only hotels that would accept us, because of the new government policy, 'cos the Conservatives are taking a moral stance, and it was Kuroo who gave me the address…"  
  
"Kuroo-san?" said Akaashi, frowning.  
  
"Um, yes? Listen, if you don't want to stay here, I completely…"  
  
"Why did you bring me here?"  
  
The question took Bokuto by surprise. He finally took a good look at Akaashi, who didn't seem angry but still had a strange expression on his face.  
  
"Um… Well… I thought it was, uh… obvious…?"  
  
"Was it so we don't 'get stuck in a routine' as a couple like in the magazines Kuroo-san has made you 'study'? Bokuto-san, are you bored when you're with me? Would you say our couple is going through difficulties? Do you think I don't satisfy you when it comes to sexual intercourse?"  
  
"No, no, Akaashi, you've got it all wrong!" Bokuto cried out against the verbal onslaught.  "I thought… I thought you, perhaps, were not satisfied, and that maybe you wanted to let go a little…"  
  
"How do you mean, 'let go a little'?"  
  
"Well… You still use honorifics and polite speech, even when we're…"  
  
Akaashi sighed, irritated at Bokuto for bringing this up again.  
  
"I have already told you that…"  
  
"Yes, you're still not used to it and it's going to take time, we've gone through this, but I have also taken into account the fact that you don't make a lot of noise in bed either, because we've never really had…"  
  
"And what if I were not very effusive naturally?" Akaashi cut in coldly.  
  
"No, that wasn't a reproach, wait! Of course I would be fine with it if it just wasn't your thing, but…"  
  
He took a deep breath and started again.  
  
"Everyting about you satisfies me, Akaashi, and, truthfully, we don't need to 'spice things up', that's never been us. Simply put, in this kind of establishment, we can try out what it's like to go at it slowly, all alone, you and I… Okay, you and I and King Tut in this case, which is a huge turn-off, I'll admit. We don't even have to do anything, I don't want to force you in any way, I just want… to spend some time with you… in intimacy, you know? Do stuff we don't dare to do outside, not even sexual stuff, just, maybe… touch each other, kiss as much as we want, count each other's lashes one by one…"  
  
Akaashi gave a surprised little giggle that he tried to hide between his fingers in the cutest possible way. The tip of his ears was red. Bokuto felt an irrepressible urge to nibble them.  
  
"Yeah so maybe that last one is a kinky weirdo thing but be sure that I would totally do it if you'd let me," Bokuto continued, encouraged by the much lighter atmosphere. "But then my initial vision of it was in a much less shabby context so if you want to leave this place right now, I…"  
  
Akaashi interrupted him again, but with a kiss this time, where, how rare, he even slipped his tongue in.  
  
"That's out of the question. I shouldn't have doubted you, Bokuto-san. Thank you for this gift, I intend to make the most out of it. Allow me to take my shower first, and then… we'll see where the night takes us. Won't we?"  
  
He locked himself in the bathroom after throwing a heated courtesan's stare Bokuto's way and dropping a quicker kiss on his lips.  
  
A little stunned at this happy turn of events, Bokuto dropped himself on the waterbed and let himself wobble for a bit, a stupid grin stuck on his face. He considered the room with a new eye. To his endorphin-soaked brain, suddenly it looked like heaven on earth.  
  
He even thought the hotel room phone, which was shaped like a hamburger for some reason, was adorable.  
  
As he let his eyes wander around, noticing on their way that the hieroglyphics on the wallpaper hid drawings of sexual positions, he realized that the light from the bathroom poured through the large window. Akaashi's dark silhouette detached itself on it while the shower started.  
  
 A few seconds later, the milky white polished glass magically cleared up and the shadow turned into the vision of a naked Akaashi, as distinct as if he were still standing in the bedroom.  
  
The information took its sweet time to make its way to Bokuto's brain, and the deduction that the window must lose its opacity under the action of the shower steam was even slower in registering. So much so that he realized he'd remained stood there, dumbly staring for a long time, a little astounded but nevertheless delighted, without saying or doing anything.  
  
Snapping out of his stupor, he waved his hand to catch Akaashi's attention. To no avail. It seemed Akaashi couldn't see him; the window probably worked like a one-way mirror, transparent on one side only, turning the bedroom's occupant into a shameless voyeur.  
  
Was it too late to warn Akaashi, now that Bokuto had had a long hard stare at him? He'd already seen him naked many times before of course, but he wasn't big on keeping issues of consent in the vague. He went directly to the window and almost knocked, when he stopped, frozen on the spot with his fist raised.  
  
Akaashi wasn't doing anything special: he was soaping himself up slowly, pensively, but it was the look on his face that had stopped Bokuto right in his tracks. It was… defenseless. Vulnerable. Letting such raw emotion show that Bokuto was instantly and irrationally jealous of this side of Akaashi, that he'd never seen before and that wasn't meant to be seen by him.  
  
His fist unfolded, one finger at a time, and he pressed his hand against the glass, drawing himself as close as possible. Enthralled, unable to steer his eyes away from the scene, he drank in every slight variation in Akaashi's features.  
  
So that was what a truly naked Akaashi looked like.  
  
Behind the window, an unsuspecting Akaashi balanced himself with one hand against the shower's wall and his other, soaped-up hand disappeared between his thighs, past his dormant prick. After a little while, his face changed again: he frowned, blushed, and teared up. From time to time, he bit his lips, and a slight spark of pleasure relaxed his features, tense with effort.  
  
Akaashi was cleaning and loosening himself up for sex.  
  
Bokuto couldn't look away any more than before, as the vision was almost as forbidden as the previous one: Akaashi normally wouldn't let him see the preparations. Due to his shyness, due to lack of time as well, he often slid Bokuto's cock inside him to the hilt as his hole was already loose and lubricated, like a sleight of hand where the audience was distracted during the set-up.  
  
Bokuto pushed the heel of his hand against his growing boner, as if he could physically slow his body's reaction. Of course he couldn't. Akaashi was so fucking sexy and Bokuto was so, so fucked.  
A blink later, he was hard as nails.  
  
It was only when he saw Akaashi turn the shower off and when opacity gradually took over the window again that Bokuto remembered his initial intention of calling to him. He felt mortified: it had completely slipped his mind. Akaashi was going to be incensed -- with good reason.  
  
The loud click of the bathroom door opening made him jump. Akaashi stepped out, a towel modestly tied around his hips. Far less modest were the red tinge on his lips, his cheeks, his shoulders; his erect nipples; the water droplets sliding down his legs to pool at his feet that Bokuto wanted to lick out one by one if only to quench the dryness of his mouth…  
  
"Go on, Bokuto-san."  
  
He jumped again, and did a double take to understand the nature of the invitation. Oh, right, the shower. Not licking him all over. (Not yet).  
  
Bright red, he took his turn in the bathroom and realized that yet again, he'd missed the occasion to call out the window trick and his bad behavior. Of course, the more he'd wait, the less acceptable it would be, but when could he find the right moment then…?  
  
As he undressed, he considered the window which had turned completely opaque again. Maybe he should take a cold shower, so he could keep the secret longer? Plus, seeing how turned on he was, a little cold water wouldn't hurt.  
  
No, he thought, changing his mind. He owed it to Akaashi. And if he hadn't been able to talk to him directly about it, he'd make him understand with his actions, and balance out his moral debt.  
  
He turned the knobs for hot water to the maximum so that the room would rapidly fill up with steam, then he adjusted with cold water so he could step under the spray without burning himself.  
  
He, too, would surrender completely to Akaashi's stare.  
  
He didn't think he still had hidden facets that Akaashi had yet to learn about him, but if there was one thing that Bokuto was good at, it was putting on a show.  
  
He turned his back to the window while soaping up, and spread his legs. Then he leaned forward with one hand against the partition and dipped his other hand in his crack.  
  
He used his index and pinky to spread his butt cheeks, so as to offer the best possible view of his middle finger tracing the rim of his hole in smaller and smaller circles, until it plunged inside to the first knuckle.  
  
A grunt escaped him. He was going a bit too fast: he concentrated on his breathing and wriggled his finger, from the inside out, to widen the opening and allow his ring finger to join in.  
  
Soap wasn't ideal for his insides: it stung a bit, but it was the only slippery enough substance that he could reach for now. He'd simple have to be extra careful when he'd wash it out.  
  
He parted his fingers inside, a little more with each passing, pushing them deeper gradually. His sensations had switched from discomfort to the premises of pleasure, a slight tingle: his nerves' response as they came alive under the caresses.  
  
He stopped then, deciding he was ready. Even though Akaashi's dick was a bit bigger than the opening Bokuto had loosened up, Akaashi would enjoy being just this side of a snug fit, and Bokuto would particularly taste the little burning sensation and the small sting of pain that went with an underprepared penetration.  
  
He turned around to rinse his fingers and his behind with the spray, and found himself, for the second time that evening, without having anticipated it any better than the first time, face to face with the clear and distinct vision of Akaashi behind the window.  
  
Except this time Akaashi was looking at him right in the eyes, stood up in front of him with a little side smile, pupils blown wide and black.  
  
So much for the one-way mirror: the glass actually turned transparent on both sides! Akaashi had pretended not to see Bokuto on the other side the first time. What a… perverse and twisted genius.  
  
Bokuto finished rinsing himself, washed his hands with soap, then, to be a good sport, took himself in hand and started jerking off vigorously while looking at Akaashi straight in the eye.  
  
He was putting on a new kind of show, for one, but he was also being practical: he was way too turned on at this point, dazzled by Akaashi's mind as well as his body.  
  
Getting off in the shower first would prevent him from creaming himself like a virgin as soon as he was out the bathroom door and find himself in the presence of the one he loved most in the world.  
  
He was so gone he didn't need finesse: he just stroked and stroked until his climax hit him like a punch, quick and with no other pleasure than the one brought by adrenaline. Pleasure wasn't his goal at this point, after all: he dared to think he had something better waiting for him.  
  
He was about to rinse the semen off his fingers when another idea struck. He brought his palm to his mouth, eyes still on Akaashi's, and licked it clean. The taste of his own sperm inspired nothing in him but some vague disgust, but if only for Akaashi's reaction, it was worth it.  
  
Akaashi was drinking in the scene, mouth opened, cheeks redder than ever. And the towel that was supposed to protect his decency had become nothing but indecent, lifted up as it was by a massive erection.  
  
Bokuto felt much calmer after his orgasm, but his fired up libido had now transformed into a gnawing anticipation, a much deeper hunger. He turned the taps off and went out directly to the bedroom with bothering to dry or cover himself up.  
  
From the bed, Akaashi examined his naked and wet body from head to toe, and the satisfied glint in his eyes implied he liked what he saw. They remained staring at each other in silence for a few moments, letting the tension between them culminate.  
  
"Nice trick with the window," Bokuto said, cutting through the electric atmosphere.  
  
Akaashi smirked.  
  
"I could say the same to you. From where I was standing I had a really great view."  
  
"Did you guess that the glass turned transparent with the heat from the shower?"  
  
"I… surmised something to that effect, yes. A huge opaque window coincidentally cut in a bathroom wall in a love hotel? It couldn't have been innocent."  
  
He leaned back on his elbows, spread his thighs, and continued:  
  
"I suppose, since you've just ejaculated, that you will need time to recover…?"  
  
Deliberately, Akaashi's fingers grazed the spot where his towel tented. Transfixed, Bokuto followed the littlest movement.  
  
"Eh," he shrugged. "I'll find the time to recover while you fuck me in the ass, what do you say?"  
  
Without letting him answer, Bokuto swooped down on him while Akaashi received him just as ferociously.  
  
After the initial violence of their bodies bumping into each other, they naturally ended up adopting a more lascivious rhythm. They kissed and humped against each other with abandon, looking for the longest possible stretch of skin to skin contact. A luxury that they hadn't indulged until now: most of their intercourse usually included staying half dressed, in case of an emergency.  
  
"Lu… Lubricant, Bokuto-san…" Akaashi panted against Bokuto's lips. "And condoms. Quick."  
  
First unwilling to let go of him, Bokuto finally heard the voice of reason. He hopped out of bed, determined to be done with the issue as soon as possible.  
  
At the end of the room, between two statues of pharaohs, a vending machine made of translucent plastic cases was at the disposal of clients. It seemed to contain all the essentials (clean, sterile, and most objects looked brand new). You only had to push a button underneath the chosen case to open it and the price was automatically added to the room bill.  
  
Bokuto chose lube and condoms after checking the selection of sex toys. He'd come back to them later, he decided: for now his top priority was to get fucked as roughly as possible by Akaashi. No room for refinement.  
  
He came back to the bed to find his boyfriend jerking himself off like he couldn't hold back anymore, his erect cock covered in seminal fluid slipping inside his hand with wet noises.  
  
"Ride me, Bokuto-san", Akaashi commanded with a low voice. "I want you above me, right now."  
  
Bokuto ripped the wrapping of the condom and, without a pause, unfolded the rubber along Akaashi's erection as he straddled him. Akaashi's hands gripped his hips tight as soon as he was kneeling above him.  
  
He popped the cork on the tube of lubricant with his teeth and spat it aside. He spread its contents all over his hand until it was dripping with it, then transferred the slimy gel first inside him with two fingers, then on the length of the latex-covered shaft he found behind his back.  
  
He held it against his crack with one hand and, rolling his hips back and forward, he made it slip against him, from his perineum to the tip of his coccyx. When he pushed, he could feel the curve of Akaashi's cock filling the hollow of his hole and the ridge of his glans that bumped against it, on the very verge of penetration.  
  
Bokuto clenched his buttocks repeatedly while keeping his hips moving, arousing Akaashi while he looked for more stimulation for himself, killing two birds with one stone. Of course, it wouldn't be enough. And since he was clinically unable not to overstep his bounds, he decided to go the extra mile:  
  
"Do you like it, Akaashi, when I tease you like this? When you want to put it in but I won't let you, when all I really do is hump your dick like a bitch in heat?"  
  
In the blink of an eye, Akaashi had him on his belly in one move and had forced his cock inside him, just the tip. Bokuto loved it. He loved when Akaashi dominated him.  
  
"Fuck, yes, Akaashi, go on, put it all the way in…!"  
  
" _Spank me, mistress, I've been a very naughty boy!_ "  
  
They both froze.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san…?" Akaashi began.  
  
"Uh… put it… all in? The, er. The rest wasn't…"  
  
" _Filthy! Filthy brat! Here's your punishment!_ " shouted a feminine voice. Followed by quick snaps.  
  
" _Ah! Ah!_ " cried an ecstatic man in time with the snaps.  
  
" _Now do the pig! Squeal for me little piggy!_ "  
  
" _Oink, oink, oink!_ "  
  
Akaashi pulled out immediately and sat on the edge of the bed, his head between his hands. Bokuto crawled to him but was so abashed he couldn't touch him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Akaashi," Bokuto whispered. "The room probably isn't sound-proof. In addition to the horrible interior design."  
  
It was the second time this evening that he had to ask for forgiveness for this stupid gift. Couldn't he ever do something right for a change? Why did every single one of his plans had to go to shit, especially when he was trying to please his boyfriend?  
  
"It's not your fault, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said right away, very softly. "I'm a little… mortified. I'm wondering how many people heard us, and what they heard exactly. To be honest, it's not that serious, we're all here for the same thing and we shouldn't be ashamed of it. It's just… It's me, I'm bad with…"  
  
He lifted his head, cheeks flaming, and made a vague gesture towards Bokuto, him, then the ceiling, signifying: intimacy, expressing himself, other people, revealing himself, emotions…  
  
Bokuto thought back to the pretend one-way mirror trick, and to what it must have cost Akaashi to reveal himself like that, even through a complicated scheme which was also so typically him.  
  
He kissed him. Sweetly, without rushing. Akaashi first responded to the kiss, but then had to stop, due to the ongoing pig squeals which were ruining the moment.  
  
Bokuto realized Akaashi was shaking. His face was obscured so Bokuto couldn't see his expression. Was he… traumatized by what he was hearing?  
  
The shaking got worse, until Akaashi couldn't hold back anymore: he threw his head back and laughed out loud. He was laughing so much that he ended up rolling on the bed holding his sides, his cheeks wet with tears.  
  
Bokuto took a second to ask himself if he should be offended, however Akaashi's laugh was so ugly and uninhibited that it was irresistibly catching, and in the end they were both howling without being able to catch their breath.  
  
When the crisis passed after multiple threats of asphyxiation, they came to the conclusion that they weren't in the mood for fucking anymore.  
  
Akaashi took off the useless condom like a dirty sock, aimed for the bin in the corner of the room and aced his throw in one. He wasn't the setter of one of the best high-school volleyball teams for nothing.  
  
"This kind of hotel must have porn on demand," he said. "How about we watch some together, to get ourselves back on track? At any rate, if we turn the volume up loudly enough we won't hear the couples in the other rooms anymore."  
  
Bokuto agreed enthusiastically. All his gusto, however, deflated when he zapped through the lists on the flat screen in front of the bed, and counted pages and pages of straight porn movies, peppered with two or three lesbian ones. Watching het porn didn't bother him all that much, but to get back in the mood and forget couples in the other rooms, it was less than ideal.  
  
He found by mistake a film indexed as "Gay/Other" and whose title was "Flesh Gordon and the Hypersonic Dildo". The summary promised adventure, action, and perverted aliens throughout the space odyssey of a young, beefy mercenary who had to survive an intergalactic war, and his only plan, apparently, was to fuck his way through it.  
  
It had all the elements of space opera shlock, a.k.a. one of Bokuto's guilty pleasures, with sex as a bonus, a.k.a…. two of Bokuto's guilty pleasures. Chances were it was more ridiculous than arousing, but at least they'd have a good time.  
  
Akaashi arranged a comfortable little nest with cushions to optimize their viewing position and, propped against him, Bokuto put the movie on.  
  
Surprisingly, it had a lot of plot, for porn. It wasn't a particularly clever one, since it was about two alien species, baddies on one side, goodies on the other, who fought each other… but still.  
  
The main guy, Flesh Gordon, arrives in the middle of the conflict and creates a huge mess, until the prince of the good aliens is forced to ask him for his help. Together, their mission is to retrieve a magical artifact that would bring the war to and end -- most of the scenes leading up to sex, of course.  
  
The beginning of the movie had a lot of het scenes, with humanoid "female"-coded aliens played by actresses, but Bokuto took the whole measure of the "Gay/Other" classification when the alien prince appeared on screen.  
  
He was incarnated by a young man with fine features under his green make-up, with eyelashes that went on forever, and whose tight costume hugged his willowy frame and bubble butt.  
  
Bokuto looked at the screen, then Akaashi, then the screen, then Akaashi.  
  
"What," Akaashi asked, giving in.  
  
"He looks like you, don't you think?"  
  
"Who, the prince? I don't think so, no."  
  
"He's got your manners, your body type… And they present him as super smart. This is you down to a tee."  
  
"How cliché. And will you tell me next that the main actor looks like you as well, is that it?"  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, no, that guy is an idiot who only thinks with his penis! Don't compare me to him, Akaashi, it's unfair!"  
  
"He's got your guns," said Akaashi, turning his face to the side to kiss Bokuto's arm which supported his neck.  
  
Then he moved down and dropped a light kiss on Bokuto's stomach:  
  
"And your incredible abs," he added, leveling a burning gaze at him.  
  
"I'll grant you that," said Bokuto whose heart was beating double-time. "But his dick is smaller than mine, right? Right…?"  
  
"Mmmmh," Akaashi purred, laying back beside him. "Let's see here…"  
  
He reached out and caught Bokuto's slowly hardening cock in his hand.  
  
"Mmh, yes, so hefty, so big," he declared, weighing and caressing it. "A splendid specimen…"  
  
He faked a gasp of shock, his eyes widened.  
  
"By Ursa Major's claws, call back our armies and send word to my people!" he exclaimed. "I have finally found the Hypersonic Dildo! War is over."  
  
Bokuto started laughing. His laugh ended on a groan when Akaashi teased the opening of his urethra with one finger and played with the liquid that had pearled up.  
  
On screen, the alien prince and the main character were investigating a secret society and found themselves in the middle of an orgy where they had no choice but to participate in order to maintain their cover.  
  
The prince was quickly surrounded by humanoids with penises and vulvas, but also tentacled creatures which assailed his svelte body from all sides.  
  
"Look, Akaashi," Bokuto said in a strangled voice, his eyes fixed on the moving images. "Your alter ego apparently is very popular. And doesn't he love it. Slut."  
  
In lieu of an answer, Akaashi started jerking him off, with a regular rhythm and just enough pressure in his fingers to be pleasurable, but not enough to bring Bokuto to climax.  
  
"Would you like that too, Akaashi?" Bokuto asked. "If a group of people shared your body among themselves like that?"  
  
Akaashi whined and rubbed his erection against Bokuto's side.  
  
"I think about it, sometimes," Bokuto said, since Akaashi wouldn't reply. "Sometimes, I want you all for myself, but sometimes, I want to see you taken by others, several people at a time. I want to pass you around, to parade you like a rare pet, let others know the pleasure of owning you, just for a minute, so they'd know what it's like, and so they'd envy me; so they'd die from envy. Because you wouldn't do it for them, but for me. All the while, even with strangers using your body for their enjoyment, you'd belong to me, only to me."  
  
These words and the images they inspired came from the dark corners of Bokuto's mind, and he'd never dared to talk to Akaashi about them before.  
  
It wasn't to make them come true: he couldn't see his shy and reserved boyfriend, who had problems not using polite speech with him and who couldn't let other couples in a love hotel hear him fucking, let himself go amongst strangers.  
  
Said strangers didn't even have a face or a even a precise corporeal form in Bokuto's imagination: if he gave them form, and identities, and tried to really visualize the scene, he was turned off instantly.  
  
Sometimes fantasies were meant to be just that, fantasies, and it suited him fine.  
  
Akaashi seemed to understand, because far from objecting or appearing disgusted, he let out small cries like an animal in heat, humping Bokuto's side until he left it completely wet with fluids.  
  
"I'd like to suck you off, Bokuto-san," he mumbled, feverish. "May I? Suck you off? Please?"  
  
Bokuto wasn't the kind of man who could decline such a request. And yet…  
  
"Wait a minute, the prince was actually one of the bad guys?!" Bokuto cried out as he suddenly sat up straight.  
  
The abrupt movement made them lose their balance on the waterbed. They wobbled from side to side.  
  
"Excuse me?" Akaashi said when the wobble stopped.  
  
He looked stunned, and not just because of sea sickness.  
  
"In the movie!" Bokuto rambled. "He actually wasn't the prince of the good aliens at all! Wow!"  
  
Akaashi was giving him the death stare, but Bokuto's renewed interest in the plot of the porn space opera wasn't fake.  
  
After the orgy, the alien prince and the hero were offered the infamous Hypersonic Dildo which would solve all the conflicts, but then the prince revealed himself to have been on the side of the baddies all along! He'd disclosed his true nature and then had the hero thrown in a space jail.  
  
Bokuto had certainly not seen that plot twist coming!  
  
Now the prince was visiting the hero in jail to mock him and a prison hatesex scene would probably follow.  
  
Unlike what was going to unfold in reality, where Akaashi would purely and simply kill Bokuto without even fucking him first.  
  
"I'm sorry, Akaashi," Bokuto said for the third time in this catastrophic evening. "But… it's interesting, right? Say, do you mind… Do you mind if we watch this until the end? I really want to know what's gonna happen!"  
  
Akaashi dropped his head back as he let out a powerful sigh through his nose, closed his eyes, counted up to ten (Bokuto knew because he was counting at the same time in fear for his life), then answered while visibly gathering all the patience he had left:  
  
"Alright. It is an interesting plot twist, it's true. Truthfully, I also want to know what's going to happen."  
  
Overjoyed, Bokuto smothered him in the tightest of hugs. He didn't deserve his amazing perfect boyfriend. And, if he'd decided to say that statement out loud, his amazing perfect boyfriend woud have surely agreed with him.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lifted the name "Flesh Gordon" from an actual porn parody, but don't bother looking for the specific one I made up here as it doesn't exist at all (porn generally isn't that inclusive or exciting). Now, would I pay good money to see that porn space opera made into an actual movie?  
> Yes, yes I would.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done for this part. Second part will be a follow-up and also a Christmas fic of sorts. But this time, it's gonna be Akaashi who sets up the date (dundun duuuun)
> 
> Please mind the updated tags for this last chapter
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this silly little fic, sorry for my mistakes if there are still some left, thank you for reading!

After a steamy prison hatesex scene that Bokuto had totally called, Flesh Gordon escaped and took the prince as his hostage. As he was trying to hide with his sexy prisoner in the baddies' space base, they eavesdropped on a secret conversation between the king of the baddies and his concubines (second gratuitous orgy scene) where it was revealed that the prince was indeed the prince of the good guys, but had been kidnapped as a child by the baddies when he was just a baby.  
So the king of the bad guys had adopted him, then manipulated him all his life so he would use him against the good guys.  
Irate, the prince rebelled against his adoptive father and used the power of the Dildo to banish him forever. Then, as the bad guys' royal prince he took the throne and claimed his rightful place as sovereign of the good guys on the same occasion.  
Thus ended the intergalactic war, and the prince married the hero as a consort (final sex scene for the wedding night).  
  
"I cannot believe how awesome that was," Bokuto exclaimed with an appreciative whistle when the end credits rolled.  
  
As for Akaashi, he'd fallen asleep.  
  
"Did the prince and the hero end up together?" he asked in an adorably sleepy voice when Bokuto turned the TV off and there was no background noise to lull him anymore.  
  
Bokuto kissed his forehead.  
  
"Yes. They lived happily ever after. Or maybe the prince dumped his ass after having his way with him all he wanted because Flesh Gordon is a douche."  
  
Languidly, Akaashi snuggled closer to Bokuto, melting against him. They shared a little moment of content silence.  
  
"Bokuto-san…" Akaashi began.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Akaashi climbed onto Bokuto's reclined body, aligning their hips and their soft dicks. Despite the fact that he, too, had quite the muscle mass, he didn't feel very heavy.  
  
"Bokuto-san," Akaashi said again, looking him in the eye with a slightly pouty face. "I am under the impression that we're not making the most of this room. You've given me an exceptional gift and we're only exploring what, ten percent of its possibilities? It's a real shame."  
  
"What do you mean, Akaashi? Do you have something in mind?"  
  
His heart started beating wildly, even though he didn't think he could get hard as easily as the previous times. With weariness setting in and their multiple stops and false starts (the last one being entirely his fault, okay), he literally wasn't quite up for it anymore.  
  
However, he had absolute blind faith in any and all of Akaashi's plans.  
  
"I propose we… 'spice things up' a little," Akaashi declared, flipping open the hamburger phone and dialing a mysterious number.  
  
*****  
  
Bokuto was having the time of his life.  
  
"Now I've got you, rebel slave!" he screeched while threatening Akaashi with his plastic sword.  
  
He put his pharaoh's headdress back into place as it had slipped off a bit during their hot pursuit around the room, and adjusted his "Egyptian" loincloth to maintain the faintest air of dignity -- even though the word might be a tad too strong.  
  
If the couples in the other rooms could hear them now, they must certainly be getting their money's worth.  
  
In response to his bad acting, Akaashi doubled down and gave his everything, from tearful eyes filled with terror to extra long lashes fluttering at high speed.  
  
"Mercy, my king! I'll do whatever you want."  
  
The "slave tunic" Akaashi was wearing was really very skimpy. It unveiled  kilometers of legs and barely covered his crotch. Bokuto briefly wondered if the hotel had a shop where they could purchase the costumes afterwards.  
  
"We'll see about that," Bokuto cackled with a lewd sneer.  "Do you know how to…"  
  
He pretended to think for a second, then asked:  
  
"…disco dance?"  
  
Akaashi let out a cry of anguish.  
  
"No, sire, not the disco!"  
  
"Why not? Speak, slave, spill everything or I'll have you flogged!"  
  
"I… I don't know how to disco dance!"  
  
"What!" Bokuto hollered. "On planet Disco, in my kingdom of Disco, one of my subjects doesn't know how to disco dance! Go on, hop on the bed, er… my chariot? Anyway, down on all fours, slave! Just climb up here and wait for your punishment or whatever? Er, chop chop!"  
  
"What are you going to do to me, o, King?" Akaashi asked in a trembling voice while he obeyed.  
  
"I'm gonna smite you!" Bokuto said, striking Akaashi's butt with the golden cat o'nine tails he'd found in the vending machine.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
Akaashi broke out of character to complain:  
  
"Okay, we've tried that out, it's fine, but we'll never do it again, are we clear?"  
  
"Crystal clear, Akaashi," Bokuto nodded, magnanimous. "Here, I'll kiss it better."  
  
His butt cheek was already starting to bruise, right under the tunic. Bokuto lightly pressed his lips against it, then gave it a bite, which made Akaashi squeak in surprise.  
  
"Bokuto-san!" he cried, scandalized.  
  
"Sorry, sorry," Bokuto laughed, climbing on the bed in turn and stretching out. "Where were we?"  
  
"I was at your mercy," Akaashi said, crawling up to him like a prowling panther.  
  
He traced Bokuto's plastic necklace with his index finger, then let it make his way down Bokuto's abs scratching and making the muscles jump under the attack.  
  
"At my mercy," Bokuto repeated.  
  
"Yes, and poor little me was ready to do anything to gain your indulgence."  
  
"Oh. Is that right."  
  
He opened Bokuto's loincloth like opening a present. To stay in character, Bokuto had chosen to wear nothing underneath. When he took note of it, Akaashi's smile turned predatory.  
  
"No underwear? How racy..."  
  
"Akaashi," Bokuto whined, "we agreed I was supposed to be the lecherous pharaoh and you were to play the coy slave, not the reverse…!"  
  
"Hm-hmm, I am unforgivable. How can I make it up to you…?"  
  
With one hand, he straightened up Bokuto's length and, leaning forward, he swallowed half of it, until his lips met the circle of his hand.  
  
He didn't wait and worked it, using his tongue, his throat, moving not only his head but his whole upper body, which he lifted up and dropped down at a regular rhythm, focusing his entire being on Bokuto's erection in his mouth and the best way to revere it.  
  
The sensations were so intense so quickly that Bokuto flailed by reflex.  
  
His erratic movements must have turned some switch on, because a funky music started playing around the room and disco lighting swirled across the ceiling. Then the mechanical turntable under the bed started to spin.  
  
Startled, Akaashi had stopped sucking when the sound and light show began, and he'd immediately got up in search of the console unit to switch it off.  
  
The turntable spinning in the second phase took him by surprise and he lost his balance, falling over Bokuto.  
  
"Akaashi, are you o… oh."  
  
Akaashi's dick was pressed against his leg, decidedly uninterested in any sexy proceedings. Akaashi shrugged, sheepish.  
  
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," he admitted simply.  
  
He finally found the commands that Bokuto had set off by inadvertance and put an end to the seventies' chaos around them.  
  
Bokuto, for once, had no words. He had questions, mainly, spinning around in his head, many of them: at which point had Akaashi started faking it? Had Bokuto put too much pressure on him? Had he forced him? How hadn't he realized before? Had Akaashi shown signs of discomfort, tried to make him stop in some way? If Bokuto went over every single one of his actions leading up to…  
  
Akaashi placed one hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the moment.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I really didn't mind. You haven't done anything wrong, stop berating yourself."  
  
"I should have realized!" cried Bokuto, distressed. "I should have asked…"  
  
Akaashi kissed him to stop the stream of self-flagellation. When he saw that Bokuto had calmed down, he gathered him in his arms and stroked his hair.  
  
"I've mastered the art of dissimulation a long time ago, Bokuto-san. The only way you could have known is if I'd told you, and I chose not to."  
  
"Akaashi…"  
  
Bokuto hugged him back.  
  
"Why?" he asked, his face buried in Akaashi's chest.  
  
He took a deep breath. Akaashi's smell always reassured him.  
  
"Why what? Why not telling you…?"  
  
"Yeah, that, but mainly why don't you want it?"  
  
"I haven't said anything because your pleasure is mine, even if I'm not hard, please believe me. Also I think I've let myself get pulled along by your enthusiasm. I started wanting this evening to be special… for you, as well."  
  
"It's wrong, Akaashi," said Bokuto, dead serious. "Next time, you'll tell me."  
  
"I swear."  
  
"And… what about the second question?"  
  
"Oh… Tiredness, maybe. And I don't like the way this crocodile statue is looking at me."  
  
Bokuto burst out laughing.  
  
"I'm sorry," Akaashi repeated. "I thought I could make myself get into it more as we went, but…"  
  
"Don't be sorry, Akaashi, and don't make yourself do anything when it's about us, please. I'm tired too, anyway, so it's okay, I understand."  
  
To call out Bokuto on his (weak) bluff, Akaashi silently stared down at Bokuto's erection, already flagging a little but still quite robust.  
  
"No but we can ignore this, I'm good," Bokuto insisted.  
  
"How about you come on my face, Bokuto-san?"  
  
For the second time of the evening, Akaashi had left Bokuto at a loss for words. He recovered:  
  
"But, Akaashi, you still don't want it! And you swore we wouldn't do anything if you weren't in the mood…"  
  
"I swore to tell you the next time I'm not feeling sexual arousal during intercourse. But I also told you the truth when I said that your pleasure was my pleasure, and I asked you to believe me. What's more…"  
  
Akaashi lied back down on the bed, his half-closed eyes and his relaxed pose were all silent invitations to debauchery.  
  
"…there is a mirror above the bed," he said, raising his eyes, and his reflection stared back at him. "Kneel above me, Bokuto-san…"  
  
He offered him his hand while he kept staring languidly at the ceiling.  
  
"…and cover me in come from my lips to my throat."  
  
The contrast between is usual politeness and the dirty words he used to get what he wanted in the sack was Akaashi's best weapon, and it made Bokuto terribly weak in the face of any of his wishes.  
  
That, and the fact that he knew very well that defiling his beautiful face with come was one of Bokuto's deep-seated kinks. The kind of obscene vision Bokuto couldn't get enough of and, as a bonus, it supremely contented the animal in him, his possessiveness.  
  
Bokuto straddled him and shuffled on his knees up to Akaashi's armpits. Akaashi's arms rested above his head, in a pose of abandon. His dreamy expression, his pink lips, wet and open, helped greatly in raising Bokuto's half-mast cock to full hardness, with a little help from Bokuto's hand.  
Bokuto had to concentrate, however, to find pleasure, forcing himself to feel some measure of heat in his loins…  
  
He knew exactly what was wrong, and took some time to admit it to himself. He couldn't get Akaashi's lack of interest out of his mind, even as he jerked himself off on top of him. He was aware that it was dumb to find Akaashi so distant, so remote from him while their bodies were touching, but he couldn't help feeling… lonely.  
  
"What's wrong, Bokuto-san?"  
  
Akaashi and his endless, uncanny perceptiveness. Bokuto dropped his hand from his still-hard dick and bowed his head, breathless, worn-out, defeated.  
  
"Everything, Akaashi. Look, I completely understood the part about you not needing to be aroused for you and me to do sexy stuff and all, but I don't think I can do it after all."  
  
"It's okay. I'm sincerely sorry that I can't enjoy this truly superb erection to the fullest, but I understand."  
  
He raised his neck and sweetly but briefly kissed the tip of Bokuto's cock.  
  
Bokuto fell to the side with a painful squeak, hands on his crotch as though Akaashi had kicked him in the nuts.  
  
"Akaaaaashiiiii," Bokuto whined. "I said I couldn't continue but it's no reason to torture me like that!"  
  
Akaashi giggled, not even sorry.  
  
"Plus you were right, this crocodile statue really is giving us the stink eye!"  
  
Akaashi laughed with his ugly laugh, the one that made him snort.  
  
"Oh no, you're not gonna start the pig imitations too," Bokuto guffawed, and made Akaashi scream with laughter when he quoted: "Squeal for me little piggy!"  
  
Giggling and laughing, they cuddled and kissed, entertwining their bodies and breaths.  
  
"There is… There is something that we… that we haven't tried out yet," Akaashi panted.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I must warn you, it requires audacity, and we really haven't done it before. Something could go wrong."  
  
"Akaaaaaaashiiiiii," Bokuto complained, "stop beating around the bush and tell me!"  
  
"Well, I thought, at your place, or mine, usually, we're not free to… just…"  
  
Akaashi was silent for a moment, then he went for it:  
  
"I'd like for us to share a bed together. I want to fall asleep and wake up at your side."  
  
Bokuto's heart skipped a beat or two.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes. What do you think?"  
  
Bokuto thought he'd keep Akaashi in his arms all night. Or the reverse.  
He really had no preference about being the big or the little spoon. 

 


End file.
